This was written on September 15, 2015 as an attempt and conscious effort to clarify my intentions on Khal – a project I began in September 2014 while residing in Tabriz, Iran. I wanted to make clear that as an American of Persian and Azeri decent, my experience as a woman with freedom in America versus freedom as a woman in Iran (both post 1978) may appear different on the surface but both can be used to reveal something not talked about in the realm of the other.

9-15-15

To Clarify My Intentions:

Its important for me to acknowledge that the Khal project is not about saying that we as westerners have any right or responsibility to try and change the laws or culture of Iran. I think artists in Iran have profoundly effective ways of dealing with their own government. ‘Underground’ has a very different meaning in that country. It means an outlet for expression that may be otherwise banned; it sprouts from necessity rather than desire. It’s not outsider art, its insider freedom and its powerful and beautiful and does not require external interference. It does not seek to be in the spot light, otherwise its freedom becomes threatened.

What this project is about is presenting an action that connects one side of freedom to another. I would not be allowed to perform the way I would like in Iran because of the existing laws and it’s not my position as a visitor to challenge those laws in a way that would risk my freedom as an artist. So instead, I chose this gesture of sending scores out for artists outside Iran to perform publicly. This action attempted to demonstrate a way of still creating and communicating language rather than letting the suppression of ridiculous laws stop the conversation. Artists in Iran do not let such laws prevent them from making art; they are resourceful. With Khal, I attempted to move beyond a direct critique of the laws that shaped its initial concept and in a way question our own supposed freedoms – the personal and political freedoms as an American. In America, we are allowed to perform publicly without asking a ‘ministry of art and culture’ for permission and without presenting our art to a censorship board for a stamp of approval, but still do we have the freedom we are made to believe we have? Sure, we can go out and perform these scores publicly – but what are our own hang-ups? Do we push the limits? Do we express what’s meaningful, or do we hide behind the shadows of what we think we should believe? We are allowed to sing solo in public, to use our voice for positive change, but do we? We are free to create the kind of society we want to see, but is this it? We are free to express our individualism, but doesn’t that just nurture our own ego? We know we have the freedom to shout our opinions, but what about cultural meditation? Mind freedom. Do we have that? It’s easier to show paternal concern for the rest of the world’s freedom rather than take a harder look at our own, is it not?

These questions led me to try and create a composition for ‘8 Pillars’, one of the 16 scores shipped abroad. I wanted to create a composition in the making (in the form of a filmed experience) because only in the creating process, can we begin to see and work through our own mental prisons. This film, 8Pillars – A Free Score, was screened at Disjecta in Portland, Oregon for the exhibition, ‘Book of Scores,’ curated by Chiara Giovando in September 2015.

I believe in the power of voice and artistic expression to move us beyond unjust laws and paint a freedom that resonates internally, externally, and globally.

a living score – a language used to tell a story, communicate a process, and provide instructions while remaining transient and undefined

One SongTwo SidesBoldBreathing

went forever missing to an unknown admirer thief, to a fourth interpreter, to the sea of lost mail, to the piccolo player in the clouds, to albert ayler, to its original recipient matana roberts, to the bureau of sacrificial arts, to the ministry for desired art, or to the museum of lost art. somewhere it is resting in peace.

August 2016

Here’s the story:
I sent 15 of the 16 scores back to the recipients I initially created them for, after their final appearance of Khal at Audio Foundation Gallery in Auckland, New Zealand, to locations around the globe. The recipient of the above score, Matana Roberts, was in the process of shifting homes and said to keep her score. After meeting this amazing underground dancer (literally underground) from Tehran, Iran at the opening of Khal at Nga Taonga Sound & Vision in Auckland (random and thrilling!), I knew this project wouldn’t end when I got back to the US. I asked the dancer, Maryam Baghe Irani, if she would interpret one of the Khal scores into a solo dance piece. She said yes. The exchange occurred in November 2015. The score (originally made for Matana), was finally on its way to Auckland on July 18, 2016. My movements are slow. She was to interpret it into a dance, send me a video recording of the performance, and I would then compose music to accompany it. While more ideas were being exchanged, on August 10th 2016, I had the misfortune of receiving the package I had sent Maryam ripped and re-taped in a plastic bag, with a lovely note from USPS letting me know that they care and another letter stating that they found this empty parcel in the mail and believe that the contents were separated during handling. It made it as far as LAX transit from Highland Park, Los Angeles. This score survived Iranian customs and postal service, the Persian Gulf, the Caspian Sea, the North Atlantic Ocean, Brooklyn to Los Angeles, the Pacific Ocean, the Coral Sea, the Tasman Sea, but then lost highway from Highland Park to LAX before even leaving the city.

Despite the score’s physical disappearance, Maryam will still be interpreting the visual score (from images I sent her) into a dance sequence and I will still compose the music.one song two sides bold breathing will forever remain a living score.

bundled score getting ready to be shipped to New Zealand
july 2016

UNITED STATESPOSTAL SERVICE

WE CARE

Dear Postal Customer:

We sincerely regret the damage to your mail during handling by the Postal Service. We hope this incident did not inconvenience you. We realize that your mail is important to you and that you have every right to expect it to be delivered in good condition.

Although every effort is made to prevent damage to the mail, occasionally this will occur because of the great volume handled and the rapid processing methods which must be employed to assure the most expeditious distribution possible.

We hope you understand. We assure you that we are constantly striving to improve our processing methods in order that even a rare occurrence may be eliminated.

Inspired by the ambient glow of Dan Flavin’s “monument” for V. Tatlin (1969), Monument is a yearlong series of performances by Los Angeles–based musicians and sound artists staged within the current installation of MOCA’s permanent collection. Considering the acoustics of the Grand Avenue galleries, Monument pairs musicians with specific pieces and/or galleries to enhance the viewer’s experience of the artwork through the addition of sound. Monument is co-organized by artists Nick Malkin and Brian Allen Simon in collaboration with MOCA.

Metal Rouge play an ‘ambient’ set in front of Franz Kline’s painting ‘Buttress’ at MOCA
Andrew Scott and Helga Fassonaki at MOCA, photos taken by Sara Gernsbacher, 2016

Metal Rouge – recorded live at MOCA Grand, 04-07-16

‘Khal Excerpts,’ recently included at The Audio Foundation Gallery in Auckland, NZ is currently part of an online exhibition called LocateIran – a 2 month exhibition of artists, writers, curators and cultural producers from and related to Iran.

In September 2014, Helga Fassonaki sent scores in the form of sculptures from Tabriz, Iran to sixteen female artists and musicians living abroad to perform in public in lieu of her ability to do so legally in Iran.

Upon Interpreting the scores, the participants performed them publicly in the United States, New Zealand, Australia, Belgium, and the United Kingdom. The following videos document their performances and actions.

KHAL continues to document a living score as a language used to tell a story, communicate a process, and provide instructions while remaining transient and undefined.

Presented alongside Fassonaki’s filmed reinterpretation of her score 8 Pillars will be Khal Open Book – an archival box filled with score images, text, notes, interviews, and performance stills collected from September 2014 to current and includes conversations, exchanges, and actions that took place between Fassonaki and the sixteen plus artists involved.

Angeline Chirnside, Purple Pilgrims, and Rachel Shearer – three of the original score recipients have chosen three new Auckland-based artists to perform the scores for the opening:Tuesday November 17, 8pmfeaturing:Hermione Johnson & Zahra Killeen Chance will perform ‘Hypocrisy’Elizabeth Mary Maw will perform ‘Hum Hum Hum Hum Hum’Piece War/ Live Visuals by Cutss will perform ‘8 Pillars’

8 PILLARS – A FREE SCOREWorking with the idea of a score as a living force containing the power to shape and reshape what enters our senses, Helga Fassonaki reinterpreted one of her scores ‘8 Pillars’ (originally created for New Zealand artist Rachel Shearer) into a performance composition for seven women. It was filmed on Independence Day 2015 in a forested area in Oldwick, New Jersey. The women (each representing a pillar) move in a slow and deliberate motion mirroring their meditative wordless humming of the Star Spangled Banner as they form a circular shape around the forest trees. The cameraperson is also one of the pillars whose motion and view is revealed through another camera frame that remains still, documenting the process of a composition being created but never finished. The group voices fade as one voice (the missing eighth pillar) continues chanting the anthem until the song becomes unrecognizable.

Presented as a kind of paradox, the ‘8 Pillars’ composition explores two sides of freedom – personal vs political, whilst stripping content from song until the sacredness of a singular voice is revealed. A solo voice whether banned by political law or censored by our own fears is a vessel for a powerful recalcitrant freedom, one that is always vulnerable to attack no matter how ‘free’ a country is.

8 PILLARS LIVE PERFORMANCE (September 26, 2015)Julia Santoli (solo vocals) alongside Helga Fassonaki performed the next sequence of the ‘8 Pillars’ filmed composition at Disjecta in Portland, Oregon. As Santoli continues to hum a deranged Star Spangled Banner anthem, the notes are elongated and blurred into solid tones of color.

An iteration of Khal, an ongoing project begun by Helga Fassonaki in Tabriz,
Iran in September 2014 will be exhibited at the Audio Foundation Gallery
from 5 November – 28. Fassonaki sent sixteen sculptural scores abroad for
sixteen female artists to interpret and perform publicly in response to a ban on
female solo performances in Iran. The original scores and recorded interpretations
by the participating artists will be exhibited.

Four of the original score recipients will be performing Fassonaki’s scores live
on 5 November:

When asked to present a sound piece for the Audacious Festival, which began as a way consider the vacant lots in Christchurch’s central city as fading gaps in the collective memory of those who know the city, the idea of vacancy as something empty but open came to mind. Thinking about a time when Iran was apparently encouraging its pop singers and female vocalists to perform in concert halls, clubs, and cabarets – all of which were forced to shut down following the 1979 revolution, I began to consider the relationship between physical and cultural vacancy. Vacant is the culture’s soul that once occupied those spaces like a building swept away – both leaving only traces and echoes of stories remembered. But while a space physical or cultural is still vacant, there is an open gap of imagined possibilities. Past stories and new dreams.

I’ve reinterpreted the score ‘Celestial’ – one of the 16 Khal scores originally sent from Iran to artists (outside Iran) to perform publicly, into a sound installation which will occupy the corner of Manchester and Armagh street – a vacant lot since Christchurch’s 2011 earthquake.

The sound is comprised of twelve solo vocal recordings from female artists in Iran singing the well known Iranian song, Morq-e sahar (translated as Dawn Bird) sung by many renown singers including the iconic Qamar-al-Moluk Vaziri, who was the first Persian female vocalist to sing without the obligatory veil in 1924. Her performance of ‘Dawn Bird’ left a lasting impression on future generations of female vocalists. Most people in Iran know the song by heart. The first stanza is lyrical, and the second refers to more social and political issues.

The collected solo recordings (each recorded privately in Iran) have been layered one on top of each, forming an orchestra or group vocals (to be broadcast publicly). The physical vacancy of one city will be filled by remnants of the cultural vacancy of another.

The ‘Celestial’ score was made out of what was once a plastic table cloth found in Tabriz. The tablecloth was cut into squares following the floral design. The stack of squares is fluid, unbound, and unattached allowing for open interpretation. On October 24th, starting at 10am at the vacant lot on 281 Manchester Street, the square pieces were sewn back together reforming its past sequence as the sound of ghostly non-choir, out-of-sync voices vibrated out of a single mono speaker mixing into the vast sounds of nearby construction projects.

An iteration of Khal, an ongoing project begun by Helga Fassonaki in Tabriz, Iran will be exhibited at The Auricle Sonic Arts Gallery from 8 October – 31. Fassonaki sent sixteen sculptural scores abroad for sixteen female artists to interpret and perform publicly in response to a ban on female solo performances in Iran. The original scores and recorded interpretations by the participating artists will be exhibited.

Jennifer Lucy Allen of the Wire asked me the following questions about my project Khal on March 30, 2015. As far as I know it was never published. I thought I would share the Q&A as my responses offer insight into the project’s early landscape.

Jennifer Lucy Allen: Can you tell me a bit about the residency – who runs it, and how/why you applied?

Helga Fassonaki: It was not a residency. I resided in an artist’s studio for a month, but maybe I confused people by saying that cause many folks have asked me how I got a residency in Iran. My uncle is an abstract expressionist painter and sculptor from Tabriz, Iran who now lives and works out of a studio in Shomal, which is along the Caspian Sea. Because of him I was able to have access to this studio in Tabriz, a city in Northern Iran, part of the East Azerbaijan region.

JLA: Can you describe the location? (Paint a picture, if possible?)
HF: To me the studio felt like a shrine located in an older part the city, close to an ancient mosque, bazaar, bathhouse, and the museum of Azerbaijan. The studio is three floors – the main floor where I worked was more of a creative thinking hub – a kitchen, lounge area with couch and a single bed for guests, and a rectangle dining table where we’d gather for long lunch exchanges. I worked in one of the side rooms on this floor. The middle floor was covered in paints and stacks upon stacks of paintings and books. The bottom floor was the sculpting studio that was covered in plaster, cement, pottery and had a giant firing kiln. Half the space was filled with huge sculptures and both finished and unfinished projects. There was a tower air shaft that connected the floors and filled with plants. One of my studio mates who I really bonded with would work downstairs and sing while working. With the air shaft windows open, her raw uninhibited voice would resonate upstairs to where I worked. Listening to her voice while I made the scores greatly influenced my process and brought incredible attention to the lone female voice, more so because its banned from public exposure in Iran.

JLA: How extensive was your knowledge of the restrictions on performing before you started the residency?
HF: I was very aware of the laws before going to Iran. The laws were created post 1978, after the revolution, making it difficult for both men and women to perform music other than classical and traditional, especially anything coined ‘western’. And most specifically the law that bans women from singing solo for mixed men/women audiences.

Before I left I knew I wouldn’t be able to perform in Iran publicly, though curious about the ability to do so secretly. But still assuming I wouldn’t, I had an idea for this project to not only draw attention to the issue but also as a way to activate a global response that embraces and acknowledges the freedom of artistic expression. I invited 16 female artists to participate before I left – all 16 accepted to receive a score in a non-standard notation that they would perform publicly in leu of my ability to do so.

JLA: How did you present the work at the residency?

HF: I presented no work while in Iran. I shared my process and the completion of my scores with my studio mates who were supportive and interested in the idea.

I spent my time in the studio scouting for materials (found) and creating the sculptural scores, each one was personalized for the artist I was sending it to. My own political, emotional, and social experience while in Tabriz, seeped heavily in the making of the scores as well. My greatest research and window into artist’s struggles came from the artists that I shared the studio with. So I spent a lot of my time conversing with them. One of them helped me in the process of shipping the scores from Iran to the 16 addresses outside the country. This was a huge unexpected mission in itself. All art must past through the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance’s council of art and possibly await months for approval or rejection before it can even reach customs. To avoid this, my studio peer suggested I go through the normal international postal route and avoid saying I’m an artist. I had to take the 16 objects to the post office unpackaged so they can examine before they approve packaging. I told them they were hand-crafted gifts I made for friends overseas. They thought I was nuts and maybe took pity on me which helped a bit. It was a crazy process nevertheless.

JLA: What have you taken away from it, as an individual and an artist?

HF: From my time in Tabriz, I learned about the significance and strength of an art community that really supports one another – its power in overcoming the pressures of society and unjust laws. And that feminism is not about what women can’t do…its about supporting what women do and women supporting other women.

So far I’ve had many exchanges with the participating artists and been learning a lot – this conversation is ongoing as the project moves forward. One thing I noticed in working with these artists is that often its our own fear of public expression that inhibits us rather than backward laws.

I’ve been introducing new artists to reinterpret the scores. One of the new added artists, Suki Dewey did a free-style spoken word interpretation of all the scores live at the Glasshouse show in Brooklyn, NY. Through our exchanges she spoke about the inhibition artists in the US have in performing publicly in the streets as activists, speaking out – being radical, political. She asked, ‘Are we really free?’.

As I’ve been exploring this issue and the art climate in Iran, its also made me question my own strengths and abilities as an artist in a western landscape. I’ve been developing an even deeper emotional and physical connection with voice and its channeling capabilities.

JLA: How does this project relate to your other work?

HF: Most of my projects move through different phases – changing, evolving, and developing along the way. Nothing feels permanent or finished. Often I bring in other artists/musicians to respond, collaborate, or interact creating another dimension or layer to the work. This project is similar where I laid out the initial concept and then offered it outside myself to be interpreted, reflected, acted, performed, altered, expanded and exchanged, in effect creating an on going dialogue and a community outside myself. What happens in transit is what interests me most. All my work tends to be an experiment where the outcome is unknown. I don’t really see the point in doing something I know the outcome of. On the other hand, its not always a clean finish.

JLA: Has anyone’s response surprised you?

HF: Artists sent me audio/video documentation of their public performances which is currently [WAS] showing at Los Angeles Contemporary Archives. I wasn’t necessarily surprised, but very touched by the active and conceptual thought that went into each artist’s different interpretations. Many who don’t normally sing, used their voice and I think it challenged and pushed some artists out of their comfort zones.

An iteration of Fassonaki’s project Khal will be exhibited at Los Angeles Contemporary Archives (LACA) from March 20 to April 9th where the original 16 scores and recorded interpretations by the participating artists will be exhibited.

Special guest artistFariba Safai will open the event on March 20th with a vocal interpretation of one of the scores entitled ‘Celestial’

Glasshouse will be presenting the first iteration of Fassonaki’s project Khal on March 11th at 8pm. Sketched animation of visual scores will be accompanied by performing artist and environmental activist Suki Dewey’s spoken word interpretations.

Rachael Melanson, producer of Sonic Postcards presents sounds from my Holy Conch on AFM, the radio station at Audio Foundation (Auckland, New Zealand). Also included is an interview where I chat about my project Khal.Airing on 1-14-15, 4pm NZSTLISTEN HERE

In September 2014 Helga Fassonaki resided in an artist studio in Tabriz, Iran for a month. As a visual and performing artist, what she was able to share in public was restricted. Furthermore, as a female performing artist, the use of her voice in public performance was restricted.

Due to the establishment of the Islamic Republic of Iran in 1979, Ayatollah Khomeini ‘condemned all forms of music, other than classical and traditional Persian music’ as influenced by western culture, and therefore corruptive and forbidden. Khomeini also forbade women from singing solo in public because of ‘the seductive quality of the female voice’.

Since performing as she chose was illegal in Iran, Fassonaki sent compositions in the form of sculptural scores created during her residency in Tabriz to sixteen female artists and musicians living in the US, the United Kingdom, Denmark and New Zealand. The concept being that the scores be interpreted and performed publicly by these artists in lieu of Fassonaki’s ability to do so.

Different iterations of Khal will be presented at galleries in the US and New Zealand as a traveling exhibition in 2015/2016 where the scores and their interpretations by the participating artists will be displayed, heard, and reinterpreted – pushing the idea of a ‘living score’ as an archive open to edits, renewal and dialogue. As the series unfolds from one event to another, Fassonaki seeks to create a composition of voices and actions. Like the idea of Khal, (a derogatory term in Farsi for Iranian Pop music that was sent to Iran by Iranian US immigrants in the form of homemade mixed tapes so that Iranian residents could listen to their country’s own pop stars). Through these simple actions, the hope is that the reverberation of freedom of expression can echo back across the globe and via the clandestine channels of the world wide web find it’s way back to the country in which the scores had their origin.